Glimpses of Life – Page 17

The Beginnings of Autumn

Nature does not wait for the calendar to announce the start of autumn, it simply takes in the changes that surround it and embraces them.

As the daytime shadows play peek-a-boo between the tall oak and maple trees, the summer plants yield to the coolness of the night. Impatiens drop their flowers in a necessary reaction to the next season.

Like people, some plants will stubbornly hold on to the last ray of warmth waiting until the last minute to yield to what is inevitable.

Yet, yield they must as the earth sends signals of the new season that is slowly making its entrance.

The trees stand tall as they sway in the coolness of autumn’s beginning. Yet, they too slowly yield to this next season of life.

Soon, the trees will be bare and the ground will be covered in snowflakes that gather together to form white walking paths as if acting in one accord.

This is my favorite season of the year. And just like in nature, I too yield to the change as woodpiles have to be prepared for fireplaces that provide warmth, patio furniture gets cleaned and put away and summer projects ~ complete or incomplete ~ get put aside in favor of last year’s unfinished projects or new ones that need to be started.

The beauty of autumn cannot be denied yet death must occur in order for this new beauty to take its form.

Yet human death leaves no beauty ~ only memories that may soon be forgotten as those who retain them die themselves.

But just like autumn turns into winter and winter into spring, I hold on to the hope of the second coming of Jesus when death will be conquered. Without this, dear reader, we are like leaves that turn to dust never to return.

Coming in the Clouds

On a cloudy day, while my husband was driving through the countryside, I looked up and saw dark clouds heading our way. In the midst of the clouds, a small hole appeared showing a bit of blue sky.

The scene reminded me of a hope I have in my heart ~ the day when Jesus returns. One of many Scriptures came to mind …

“People will faint from terror, apprehensive of what is coming on the world, for the heavenly bodies will be shaken.Â Â At that time they will see the Son of ManÂ coming in a cloudÂ with power and great glory.Â When these things begin to take place, stand up and lift up your heads, because your redemption is drawing near.â€ Luke 21:26-28

Indeed, we live in a world where talk of beheadings, Ebola, starvation, homelessness and the like flood the TV news.

But I have this hope. And one day I believe that I will see Jesus coming in a cloud just as He predicted. And yes, my head will be lifted high because I’ll finally be — GOING HOME!

Antique Cars

I always find local small town fairs interesting, don’t you? Â This summer we attended one in Shoreview, MN.

One of the “highlights” of this fair was an antique car show.

I have to say ~ I am not normally drawn to old cars but for some reason I became excited as I saw them driving onto the lot where we could go “check them out.”

So ~ you are in for a treat as I took many many pictures. Sit back, put your feet up, and enjoy the pictures.

The front of the Ford Humpback looks so distinguished.

Perhaps because of my Hispanic background, I like looking at the uniquely colored ones like this blue 1955 Chevy.

Can you imagine yourself riding in this 1927 Ford Roadster? Not much trunk space, but it would make for a nice romantic ride in the country with the bench style front seat.

The elongated type cars weren’t especially one of my favorites. The hood and trunk are large but the inside of the car doesn’t have much space.

Here’s an SS (Special Series) Chevy Cheville. (I learned what the SS meant from a friend ~ thanks Karl!)

Even the filter in this car is reddish looking.

Another friend of mine is a Buick collector. This is what he shared with me about the 1964 Buick Riviera: “the engines were “big” Â like 425 cubic inches total pistonÂ displacement. But because they wereÂ V-8 rather than straight 8s they were not overly long. Â AÂ lot of the hood length was styling. Â It could probably have been 12inchesÂ shorter withoutÂ crowding.” Â So, now you know. Â (laughing)

My friend also told me that if I wanted to see the “ultimate 64 Riviera” to look up the 2014 Detroit Autorama Ridler award,Â J.F.Launier is the owner builder (he invested $600K in the car). And boy, is that a beauty! Â Click here for the link. Â

Here’s another “fun” looking car. Perhaps it’s the curves on the car (besides the color) that draw me to this car.

Even the inside is blue!

This 1923 Ford Model T reminded me of an Amish buggy. What do you think?

And here’s another Buick ~ the Wildcat. It reminded me of a Mustang ~ to which my friend Jim replied: “the WC is about 2.5 feet longer and weighs almost 2,000 pounds more,Â 425 cubic inch displacement with dual four barrel carburetors, four speedÂ manual transmission andÂ looks like about $30,000.”

Anyone like the color orange? This 1959 Chevy Bel Air is beauuuutiful. Â They sure take care of these cars. Look how shiny it is!

Although there were many many more cars, these were the ones that caught my attention. Did you have a favorite?

A Light On My Path

Sabbath Blessings

A Friend’s Death

It’s been a tough month for me having to deal with the death of a friend who I’ve known for 17 years.

She would have been 85 years old but died 2 days short of her birthday. Having been on hospice 4 times in the past 2 years, I had grown accustomed to the calls from the nurses giving me updates on how well she was doing. One morning, she woke up, drank her Ensure and fell back asleep.

By early afternoon she was having trouble breathing although she was resting comfortably. Deep breaths. Heart rate 150, then 160 then 180. She suffered from atrial fibrillation and Alzheimers. I was getting calls every 30 minutes from the caregiver and then the hospice nurse called. “We’d like to administer morphine.” I said no as I had been told she was resting comfortably by the caregiver she lived with. “She’s having difficulty breathing, her pulse is over 180 and her face is contorted — she’s uncomfortable and looks distressed.” “Okay,” I said softly, “but I want an update before you administer more than the lowest dose.” Fifteen minutes after the injection she was gone. That quickly.

Fortunately, I had already booked a trip to Seattle to check in on her and was scheduled to fly out two days later. My mind went blank as I wasn’t sure what her death would entail. I was her personal representative (also known as executor) and had never been one before. When I arrived at the airport, my son picked me up and we had breakfast together. Afterwards, I picked up the rental car and headed straight to the funeral home. A friend, who had offered to have her buried in the same cremation plot as his wife, met me there.

While waiting for my friend to arrive, I walked around the cemetery. Most of the grave markers I saw weren’t easily readable. I walked over to one where another friend of mine had been buried. I missed her so much and memories of our time together flooded my mind. Someone else had been here recently as a vase with almost dead roses was set in front of the marker. At least she’s being remembered, I said to no one.

Being here made me feel as if life was meaningless. I thought about Solomon’s words in the Bible …

â€œMeaningless! Meaningless!â€ Â Â Â Â says the Teacher. â€œUtterly meaningless! Â Â Â Â Everything is meaningless.â€

What do people gain from all their laborsÂ at which they toil under the sun?
These words would come back to haunt me for the duration of this trip and beyond.
I already had a paid contract for the services that the funeral home/cemetery would provide but because of a mix-up more money had to be paid. That’s okay I thought to myself — she can’t take it with her.
Once all the arrangements were confirmed, I drove to the adult family home where she had a room that needed to be cleaned out. The caregiver greeted me and hugged me but I felt nothing. Perhaps it was my state of mind but the hug seemed irrelevant to what had happened. I went to her room and everything, with the exception of her clothes, dolls and paperwork, was gone. No bed. No side table. One room contained everything that she possessed when she died.
“Meaningless …” Â As I went through her things I found myself overwhelmed for no particular reason. The caregiver had left me boxes so that I could pack things up. “The carpet cleaners will be here tomorrow evening,” she said. Oh. I guess that meant that I had a full 24 hours to go through all of her belongings.
There was no time to go through each item so I started separating the garbage from the pile of things that I would need to figure out what to do with. After 3 hours I couldn’t do it anymore and left with a couple of boxes that I dropped off at the local Goodwill.
My friend had left me all of her possessions. She had very little money — mainly dolls, clothes, family photos, paperwork. What is the point of my keeping all of this?
She was estranged from her family — one son had molested her, one son was on drugs and the daughter stole from her and had also been on drugs. Sitting here going through her things I remembered the conversation I had had with her daughter the day after her mother died. I called and left a message for her to please call me and when she did … well, I was unprepared for what happened.
She: What do you want?
Me: I called to let you know that your mother passed away yesterday.
She: Well, those things happen.
Me: Silence for a little bit. Then “Okay, well, I was wondering if you could let your brothers know.”
She: Yes, I can, no wait, I’m not going to do you any favors Norma.
Then the phone went dead. She had hung up on me.
Sitting here looking at the family photos I wondered how this family had gotten to be so estranged. (Later in the day, the brother did call me to tell me his sister had called him.)
The caregiver had told me that I could leave whatever clothes I didn’t want and she would use them for another resident. That was a good thing. I took a few things that I had given to her and packed them for myself.
She was a doll collector so I packed a couple of boxes of dolls — one for myself and one for her niece who was the only one in the family who stayed in touch with her on a regular basis.
Another box of pictures was packed to send to the son who called me. I decided to keep the really old pictures of her grandmother, grandfather and parents so that I could make a DVD for the family and send it during the holidays. The niece will appreciate it, the children — who knows?
After loading the car with boxes, I took it to the friends house where I was staying. I would go through these boxes the next day.
The thought kept popping up in my head — this is all meaningless.
We collect things that supposedly give us pleasure only to die and have someone else go through them and toss or give away what doesn’t give them pleasure. It’s a vicious cycle. A meaningless cycle in life.
I found myself feeling depressed.
I decided not to have a funeral service for my friend because frankly, I felt alone and didn’t know if I would be able to endure it. She had a few people who might come but not her children and I did not have the impetus to call people and gather them up for a service.
No. She was dead. She couldn’t care what I did. The only person any of this would matter to was me, so I chose what was best for me.
A friend took me kayaking at Entai Beach in Bellevue to “get you away from funeral and death thoughts” and it worked quite well. The day was lovely.
Entai Beach, KayakingEntai Beach, KayaingEntai Beach, KayakingEntai Beach, KayakingEntai Beach, KayakingEntai Beach, KayakingBeautiful lilies along a walkway really helped to lift my spirits.
LiliesBefore leaving Seattle, I was able to get copies of the death certificate, contact the bank, contact the insurance companies and social security. Things flowed quite well actually.
Of course, I had shipped paperwork, dolls and family photos to myself so I still have to go through it all along with figuring out what to do with 15-20 porcelain dolls.
Life — it’s so precious. Possessions — meaningless.
The good influence we as humans have on each other seems to be getting more and more insignificant as morality appears to be decreasing. We go from day to day living our lives — eating, drinking, working, gardening, socializing. Then we become dust.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
It is only our actions that may continue the journey in life as they affect the lives of other people. Soon, too soon, the dead are forgotten. No one remembers their laughs, their cries, their sorrows …
“Why, you do not even know what will happen tomorrow. What is your life? You are aÂ mistÂ that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” James 4:14
What is left?
Well, for those who don’t believe in God, there is nothing. You simply live and then die.
For those of us who believe in God there is the hope of a resurrection at the second coming of Jesus. That, my friends, is what I hang onto. Not just a belief in an invisible God but a belief in a God who speaks to me everyday, counsels me every day and loves me, every day. The relationship is much stronger than any I’ve ever had.
The old adage “seek and you will find” is true. Fortunately it works both ways — both God and I seek each other.
Meaningless? Â Things — yes. Relationships – no. Remember this the next time you have to make a choice between a thing and a person.

Frogs

Well, if it ain’t turtles hanging around our house it’s the frogs. Last year we had a gray frog — perhaps it’s the American Toad. It sure looks like it.

This year my husband was clearing an area of leaves so he could plant some milkweed plants (they attract butterflies). He put the leaves in the compost container and I came along and closed the lid. I don’t know who jumped first — me or the frog. He was just a little itty bitty thing and I almost missed him because he was green just like the compost container.

Here he is — he is either the Copes Gray Tree Frog or the Gray Tree Frog — you have to hear it “croak” in order to tell the difference. The frog appeared a tad frightened as his throat kept bulging in and out as if he was breathing hard but no sound was heard. Notice the toe pads on the frog? They help it cling to the bark of trees or other surfaces. They are a good candidate for nail polish (hahahahaha).

Here he is just a tad closer.

From what I’ve been reading, these frogs can camouflage themselves.

There are approximately 14 species of frogs in Minnesota. So — I guess I better keep my eyes open for them. We hear a chorus of frogs singing most nights.

Have you ever seen this one before?

The Heavens

Turtles

In the short time that I’ve lived in Minnesota, I’ve seen a few turtles waddle down the street and have slowed down or driven on the “other side” of the road to allow them their space.

However, this year is the first time the turtles have waddled onto our property — all the way to our front door!

One morning I heard my husband call my name quite firmly “Norma! Norma!” Bleary eyed, I headed downstairs as I thought there was an emergency. And there he was — standing at the front door looking out through the glass. He turned around and said “Look.”

As I looked out the window, a rather large turtle was digging a hole next to the azalea plant to the right of our front door. So, I did what any normal blogger would do — I opened the door and snapped a picture.

My husband commented that perhaps the turtle was digging a hole to lay her eggs. Â Um, okay. I was always under the impression that turtles lay their eggs on the sand next to water but I was mistaken as a search on Google clearly showed.

This turtle had made another hole in our front yard but apparently didn’t like it as she moved to this spot instead.

Heading back to bed, I remembered to take a peek when I was fully awake. The turtle was gone. She had covered the hole back with dirt. Hmmm … I’m wondering if perhaps we have turtle eggs. Â We won’t know for another 45-90 days as trying to dig up the eggs could kill the embryos.

The following day, I was working in the yard and headed towards the driveway when I spotted another turtle (much smaller). This turtle was frightened by my presence as it quickly withdrew its head into its body.

It reminded me of the joke “Why did the chicken cross the road?” Do you remember that joke? The answer is “To get to the other side.” It’s not very funny but the joke is well known.

After I walked away, this small turtle scurried across the driveway “to the other side.” Â Hahahahaha

Ahhh … life.

The Deer